Chapter Four
Soren
Flying was the best feeling in the world.
Circling, Soren flapped past the huge movie screen Romy had told him about, twittering happily.
It was the biggest screen he’d ever seen—almost scary big.
He imagined it would be amazing to see a movie on it.
There were plenty of tall trees to shelter him and provide the perfect perch to watch one from.
It might be the only thing he got to do before being forced to start planning a different future from the one he’d envisioned here.
The two calls he’d received in response to his messages about the apartments he’d seen for rent online hadn’t panned out in the slightest. One was rented already, and the other was hesitant to rent to someone who was new in town.
The woman hadn’t even wanted to show it to him.
Her voice had held a note of wariness that Soren could fully understand and appreciate, so he’d thanked her for her time and continued unloading his meager collection of belongings so he could return the car.
At least he’d found a thrift shop on his flight.
Knowing that there was a place where he could donate his things if forced to leave town without them was a minor comfort.
People could use them, and that was a good feeling, because he was beginning to think it would be safer not to have things he’d needed to carry with him.
The car rental had taken a chunk of his savings, and if he had to do it again, he doubted he’d have enough left for an apartment if he found one someone was willing to rent to him.
The feeling was soul crushing, but his wings carried him into a cool stream of wind, and he turned his attention away from all the things he didn’t have and all the things he’d lost, so he could appreciate the freedom of his wings catching the thermals.
Dipping low, Soren flew past a building that housed a coffee shop and another with the sweetest smells wafting out when someone opened the door.
The coffee shop had a help wanted sign in the window, the bakery did not, what a shame, but he’d still try the coffee shop just as soon as he was human again and dressed.
Ohh, there was another help-wanted sign too, this one in the window of a little boutique.
Soren knew little about clothes, but he’d apply there too, he just hoped the motel address would be good enough for them.
Mind made up and with a sliver of a plan formulated, he circled the motel until no one was around, then landed outside his door and shifted.
Naked, he fished the keycard from the potted plant where he’d stashed it, swiped the card and dashed inside, only to giggle at the thought that he might have given the security cameras an amusing view.
He hadn’t spotted any though, so maybe he was okay. He hoped he was anyway.
Inside, he grabbed a quick shower and dressed in the nicest things he owned.
A soft flannel shirt and worn jeans that fit like a glove and felt like butter against his skin.
His boots were old, but he took good care of them and paused to wipe away the watermarks and a scuff from the night before. He could do this.
Head held high, shoulders squared, he left the motel and headed for the shops he’d seen, hoping they’d be more willing to take a chance on a stranger than the people with the apartments had been.
Arlo
Taggart’s request to seek out the stranger was the best-case scenario as far as Arlo was concerned.
“We can try the hotel,” Arlo said. “Sounds like the rain has stopped, though there is no guarantee that he’ll still be there.
He might have taken the car to get a new tire put on.
The only thing in the trunk was a spare.
I never understood the point of that. What happens if you have a blowout and no place to get a new tire for more miles than a spare is supposed to last?
It’s not like they give you a backup spare.
Why not just make a space that will fit a full-size tire? ”
“Then there’d be less room in the trunk,” Taggart pointed out, snickering.
Cheeky brat.
“Either way, we’d better get moving,” Arlo declared, swatting Taggart’s rear when he got out of bed to get dressed.
His boy turned and stuck his tongue out before heading to find his clothes. Oh, he was gonna be fun to spend time with. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Arlo found himself looking forward to something other than the next fight.
Dressing quickly, they soon headed out the door and got into the SUV for the ride back into town. Still, he could feel the tension in his mate as they headed down the road, and he reached over, settling his hand on Taggart’s knee, giving it a squeeze.
“Remember what I said about fate,” Arlo told him.
“They only give mates a third who fit them both. This is not an either-or situation, darlin’ you’re already wearing my mark.
I claimed you knowing there was a possibility of a third, because you’re mine and you were right there in my arms. If he’s ours, we will claim him together, if and when he’s ready and willing to be claimed.
No matter what, you and I will be returning to your place together tonight.
We’ve got a lot of work to get started on, and I want my fill of you first.”
When he flicked his tongue out and licked his lips, Arlo knew he had Taggart’s attention.
Slowly, his muscles relaxed beneath Arlo’s fingers, allowing him to return his hand to the wheel again.
The song on the radio caught Taggart’s attention, and he turned it up a little and sang along, bobbing his head to the beat of the music.
When Arlo pulled up to the motel, he spotted the car still sitting where he’d watched the man park it, the spare still on the back tire. It was sitting in front of room number twelve. Arlo parked beside it and killed the engine.
“So, how is this going to work?” Taggart asked as Arlo got a dose of all of Taggart’s chaotic thoughts. “Are we just going to walk up to his door and say, hey, we think you’re our mate?”
“Unless you have a better idea, that is exactly what I was going to do,” Arlo admitted as he reached for the door handle, believing the direct approach worked best in most situations.
“Seriously?”
Arlo’s lips twitched at how disbelieving Taggart sounded. “Seriously.”
“Not even gonna ease into it?”
He chuckled at Taggart. “Nope.”
“Damn. Okay, I guess we’re doing this,” Taggart said as they both got out.
In hindsight, he probably could have knocked softer, but it was rare for him to check his strength with anything or anyone except the people he cared about.
It reminded of the time he’d knocked to question a man only to have him vault naked over a second-floor balcony and shift mid-fall, hitting the ground on four paws only to catch an uppercut from Bash, who’d knocked the tiger on his ass before they’d taken him in for questioning.
While just a brief show of force and a reminder not to mess with a member of their crash or anyone under the crash’s protection would have worked, their tag team efforts had left a lasting impression.
“What are you laughing about?” Taggart asked, studying his face as Arlo raised his fist to knock again, a little softer this time, but it still echoed like a bass drum when he pounded on the door.
“Remind me to tell you later,” he replied, listening out for any sounds inside.
“Oh, I will, and I just might keep my mouth to myself until you answer.” Taggart’s expression suggested he could be serious.
Arlo snorted and took a half step back to appraise him fully. “Oh, really?”
“Really.”
His brows arched, giving Arlo a look and a feeling that got him backtracking. “Well, if you must know, I was thinking about another time I went beating on someone’s door like this, only they were definitely not my mate, nor were they happy to have me show up out of the blue.”
“Do you make it a habit of dropping in on people unannounced?” Taggart’s head tilted to the side.
“From time to time, that’s what enforcers do,” he said, shrugging. “I don’t think he’s here.”
A woman two doors down poked her head out to see what the racket was all about.
“Unless he’s in the shower. Otherwise, no one is sleeping through that,” Taggart muttered, side-eyeing the woman.
“No, which is why I’d appreciate it if you’d quit knocking before I report you to the manager,” the woman grunted at them and promptly slammed the door.
“If another head pops out and starts giving me shit, I’m using it as a soccer ball,” Arlo grumbled beneath his breath.
Unless the stranger was in the shower, he wasn’t in the room. Hell, as small as the rooms were with those thin walls, even in the shower, it would have been impossible to miss the echo of Arlo's knocks. The guy just wasn’t there.
Willing to concede defeat, at least for now, Arlo was about to suggest popping into Little Paws Haven for a little playtime when a high, cautious voice cut into his thoughts.
“Excuse me, can I help you?” There was a nervous cough. “That’s my room.”
Turning, Arlo spotted a far less drenched version of the man he’d met on the road.
Without the rain drowning out his scent, he could tell the man was their mate after one deep inhale.
Judging by the way Taggart shifted closer to Arlo until they were hip to hip, his mind racing, he’d picked up on it too.
Arlo couldn’t tell if he was excited or anxious now that he was faced with the reality.
“Oh, it’s you, isn’t it, the man from the roadside, you’re the one who changed my tire,” the stranger said, eyes brightening, even as he stayed exactly where he was.
Couldn’t he smell why they were there, or was he too far away for their scent to hit him?
The wind was at his back, not theirs, which put him at a disadvantage, though it wasn’t playing to their favor either.
Not when he was a skittish little thing that looked like he was about to run away at the slightest provocation.
“Thank you again,” the stranger continued.
“Is there anything I can help you with? Did you accidentally drop something in my trunk when you were helping reload it? I’m sorry, I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary when I brought my things in, and I made sure nothing was left in the vehicle when I checked it earlier.
I was just about to return it to the rental car place. ”
“No, nothing like that,” Arlo said. “Why we’re here is simple.”
“We think you’re our mate,” Taggart blurted before Arlo could, then shrugged when Arlo glanced over at him. “Sorry, Daddy, you were taking too long.”
“Uh-huh,” Arlo said, shaking his head at his mate for announcing something that could put up a barrier and not just the mating part, but him being a ‘Daddy’ too. “But yeah, what he said. We think you’re our mate.”
Taggart
Any and all doubt he had about what it would mean to have a third fled at the sight of the little bird.
Taggart didn’t think he was wrong, the scent he was picking up said the tiny guy was a bird.
Taggart just couldn’t stand how uncomfortable the little guy looked and how ready he appeared to fly off.
So Taggart, not one to keep his thoughts to himself, blurted out they were mates.
That was okay, however, announcing Arlo was his Daddy, the guy looked like Taggart had hit him with a bolt of lightning.
He sagged against Arlo feeling terrible to have maybe fucked things up.
One look at the twinkly looking guy, and Taggart was instantly smitten.
He wanted to tuck him under his arm and get in a cuddle pile he’d never gotten an invitation to join because he was too big.
He could see it now. Was he too big and put the little guy off, who hadn’t moved or responded to Taggart’s declaration? “I’m sorry, my mouth works without my brain catching up, and I didn’t mean to say Daddy like that, but he is my Daddy, and not a real Daddy, only he is my real Daddy—”
“What Taggart is trying to explain,”—Arlo tugged Taggart close and pressed his chin to the top of his head—“we are involved in the kink community and Taggart is ‘a Little’ or you may understand the term ‘a boy’ and I’m his Daddy.”
“Yes, that.” Taggart breathed a sigh of relief that faltered at the wide-eyed look on the pretty face. “Don’t fly away, please. I’m nice, I swear, I know I’m big, but my meerkat isn’t.” He went on wheedling, “I can shift if you wanna see how adorable I can be. What’s your name?”
“I’m Soren. And you’re pretty adorable as you are,” he murmured softly, his hands fluttering at his sides. “Both of you,” he added on, his pale cheeks going a delicate pink. “I don’t have anything to offer though, I’ve no job, no place to live—”
“Me, me, me. I earn plenty of money and have a house big enough for us all.” Taggart gave Arlo a begging look, wanting back up, needing it.
Now that he’d scented the little bird, he wanted him as much as Arlo.
He could see them all squished in his bed, him in the middle, Arlo spooning him and Taggart spooning their bird.
His head was full of it. “Don’t I, Daddy? ”
Arlo ran a hand down his hot cheek, his gaze shifting to the other man. “Do you think you might be interested in getting to know your mates, Soren?”
They both held their collective breath as Soren gave them a searching look. “I can cook real good, and look after a home. I did that for my family before,” he hiccupped, his eyes glazing, “before I… lost them.”
Taggart was more attuned to things than folks believed, and he got what ‘lost them’ meant and his heart shuddered.
Without a thought, he bounded over to Soren and scooped him up to cuddle him.
The size difference was more obvious up close, but Soren didn’t seem to care, and he hooked his legs around Taggart’s waist, making him feel a little dizzy from the knock-on effect of how wonderful Soren smelled.
It was a combination of warm summer air and grass, Taggart couldn’t resist and stuck his nose into Soren’s hair.
Arlo’s beefy arms wrapped around them both, and Taggart melted against him, his imagination not half as good as the feeling of being held and holding Soren in his arms. “We can be your family if you let us,” Taggart whispered, unleashing all his hope.
The uncertainty of having a third long gone and now replaced with the worry Soren might decide he didn’t want them.